


A Matter of Respect

by WhyNotFly



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: I swear I ship this even tho I only write them mean to each other, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Peter and Elias being bastards at each other, just snark snark snark and kissing, original prompt: Peter and Elias' first meeting, who will win the prize for biggest asshole today?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 11:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19991323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyNotFly/pseuds/WhyNotFly
Summary: His father had reached out personally.  There was a new director, and the Lukas family always had to maintain their appearances.  That meant Peter had to march down, shake some hands, kiss some babies, and play nice with the brand new eyeball in charge.  Huzzah.  He was already planning how he would reward himself afterwards for a miserable job well done.Peter Lukas meets the new Head of the Magnus Institute.





	A Matter of Respect

Keeping tabs on his father’s little pet project was one of Peter’s least favorite duties. Most of his responsibilities were quite enjoyable, actually, no one had to come and goad him into leading a lonely widow further into fog, or force him to isolate himself for months on sailing expeditions. Peter even genuinely looked forward to the chilly family dinners and silent cocktail parties. But he loathed visiting the Magnus Institute. There wasn’t anything obviously wrong with it. It wasn’t far away, and it wasn’t overly crowded or noisy. He wasn’t even forbidden from disappearing a person or two as long as he was respectful about it and they weren’t part of the Archives. Plus he commanded power there, in the very human way of being the primary benefactor of their work, and Peter did so love throwing his weight around.

No, he simply hated the Eye. Gross little power. So invasive, and it left a kind of residue that had Peter feeling watched for days after a single visit. As a man who valued his privacy, it was uncomfortable at best. Peter wasn’t afraid of Beholding, compared to his own patron it was kind of like a child with a B.B. gun playing at war, but he hated the feeling of them near him. Wriggling under his skin like Corruption, but worse because there was nothing to squash. So he avoided visiting the Institute whenever possible.

But he couldn’t avoid this. His father had reached out personally. There was a new director, and the Lukas family always had to maintain their appearances. That meant Peter had to march down, shake some hands, kiss some babies, and play nice with the brand new eyeball in charge. Huzzah. He was already planning how he would reward himself afterwards for a miserable job well done.

The receptionist sitting at the front desk of the Institute is the same as always, so at least she recognizes him. Smiles bright, and gushes about how long it's been since he’s come in for a visit. Peter likes to think she fancies him a little. Not his type, but a good ego boost all the same. She lets him back without even checking any ID, and Peter busies himself with trying to remember what had happened to the last director. Or at least his name. Seems like the kind of thing a big name donor dedicated to building a relationship of trust should know. Oh well. Not that important.

“Come in,” says a bored, disinterested voice after Peter’s cheerful knock. He lets himself into the familiar office and smiles at the unfamiliar face seated behind the desk. He’s not all that bad looking, honestly, slicked back hair and a sharp jaw. The universe’s way of rewarding Peter for good behavior, perhaps.

“Hello! I’m sure you know who I am. Just come by to make introductions and see if you’re settling in alright. I’m sure we’ll have a fine time working together.” Peter has the spiel down pat. Quick in, quick out, and back on his boat by dinnertime.

“I don’t,” says the eyeball, fixing him with an even stare. Peter cocks his head.

“Sorry, you don’t what?”

“I don’t know who you are.”

Peter freezes, letting the words sink in. His cheerful voice comes out a tad more forced. “You are the new director of the Magnus Institute, are you not?”

“I am.”

“Not a great sign of your devotion, then. Isn’t knowing supposed to be your whole deal?”

The director looks Peter up and down and then his eyes fall away back towards the papers neatly stacked in front of him. He picks up his pen and begins writing something. It has an air of dismissal that prickles at Peter. 

“The Eye only deigns to show me important things,” says the director, and it is the sheer boredom in his voice that sends Peter stomping across the room. He slams a hand down on the wide oak desk.

“Listen here Mister…” Peter glances impatiently down at the brass nameplate. “Bouchard. You may be new, but there are rules that need to be followed. Your institute is nothing without my family. It’s a good idea to show a little respect.”

Elias Bouchard looks up at Peter through his lashes, thoroughly unimpressed. “And here I thought this was a partnership, Mr. Lukas.” 

“You know who I am, then.”

“Of course I do.” Elias puts down his pen with a click. “Unlike some, I make a point to actually prepare for business meetings. Especially when they involve high level donors to my institute.”

“Then you should know—”

“Then _you_ should know,” Elias cuts Peter off, fixing him with a stern glare, “that I will not be intimidated, I will not be dismissed, and if our partnership was really such a one-sided affair, I sincerely doubt your _father_ would be donating so much money to our cause.”

Peter scowls. This is not how this was supposed to go. His anger rolls from him in cold, slow waves. Fog begins to twine around his ankles, rising until they cannot see the bottom of Elias’ desk. The ticking of the clock disappears into the dead air. Elias looks around, perturbed, but aggravatingly calm. 

“This is very rude, Peter,” says Elias. Peter wants to strangle him.

“You don’t know what rude is. I have been playing this game since long before you were even born. _I will not be talked down to_.”

“Funny.” Elias smiles, smug. “And here I thought knowing things was my whole deal.”

Elias’ desk is gone, swallowed in the fog. Maybe it never existed. Peter lunges through the empty space it once occupied and grabs Elias by the collar, hauling him up onto his toes.

“You really should mind your manners,” Peter all but growls, the cheerful mask entirely discarded.

“If you’d like respect, Peter, you need to learn how to give it. Tell me. What was my predecessor’s name?”

Peter tightens his grip in Elias’s shirt, but he has no answer. The fog curls around their hips, slowly cutting off everything in the world except Elias’ eyes burning into his own. Had every director had such an intense stare?

“You looked inside my head.”

“Hardly,” Elias scoffs. “No need to when you wear it so plainly on your face. Besides. You’re _in my Institute_.”

“Don’t look inside my head. You’re not going to like the consequences.” 

“I don’t think you should be pointing fingers about reckless power use here, Peter. Glass houses and all.”

Peter’s scowl deepens. “Has anyone ever told you how extraordinarily irritating you are?”

Elias smiles and Peter wants to rip it off his face. “Oh, and Rosie doesn’t fancy you. You just remind her of her late father. He was also going gray.”

Peter makes a sound of wordless rage and pulls Elias up by his collar to press their mouths together. It is angry and full of teeth and Peter doesn’t stop pushing in until Elias physically cannot smile anymore, until he is too overwhelmed to do anything but kiss back. When they break apart, Elias is finally, blessedly, silent.

“Do you do that to all the boys who emasculate you?” Elias asks.

“Just the ones who don’t know how to shut up.”

“An unfortunately temporary deterrent.”

Peter sets Elias down on his feet and he leans back against his desk, which is there again. The whole room is there again. From the hallway outside Elias’ door comes the muted sounds of life. He steps back and eyes Elias carefully.

“I suppose I’ll just have to come back and make sure the lesson sinks in, then.”

Elias hums. “Seems like a very responsible decision for someone invested in this institute.”

Peter can’t help but chuckle, and even Elias’ smile is more genuine than before. It’s cute, actually. A little snake-like, but Peter doesn’t mind that in a man. Elias glances up at the clock that is once again ticking and sighs.

“As entertaining as this meeting has been, I’m afraid I have another pressing engagement.”

“I would say we’ve been properly introduced,” says Peter, “so my work here is done. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you in the future.”

Peter starts to head towards the door when the director calls to him again. 

“Peter?” Peter turns around and meets his gaze. “What’s my name?”

Peter cracks a grin. “Elias Bouchard.”

Elias nods. Smug bastard. “That will do. For a start.”

**Author's Note:**

> As big of a bastard as Elias is I have to admit he had the moral high ground here, so I let him win this round. I enjoy writing lonely eyes more than anticipated so perhaps there will be more in the future in some capacity. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! And thank you to @midn1ght-sun-was-taken for the original request. And to @twodrunkencelestials for giving it a once over since it was my first ever fic request not from a friend and I was very excited and nervous. You can find me on tumblr @apatheticbutterflies I take tma fic requests and post writing and meta. I'm just always down to talk to anyone about the magnus archives for real.


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